Gabrielle: Bride of Vermont (American Mail-Order Bride 14) (8 page)

“Well, you’ve been more active today than any other since your fall. I can see why you’d be exhausted. Thanks for all your help. Good night, Boone,” she said dismissively.

After he left the room Gabrielle went back to work. She’d kept back a shirt she’d found in the laundry to use as a pattern for the one she planned to sew for him. Instinctively, she knew the red flannel she’d bought would look wonderful against his slightly olive-colored skin. His dark hair and brown eyes would have a striking effect with him in that color.

Laboring intensely, she wasn’t aware of the time until her body began to ache. It was well after midnight, so she carefully put the pinned pieces away. If she worked on it diligently tomorrow, she’d be able to surprise him with it in a day or two.

CHAPTER NINE

Eighteen-year-old Buck Dillingham was exhausted. He’d been on the road for days. The final push from Dallas to Coltonville was made with the sheer determination to make it home today. The sun had gone down hours before, yet he drove on by moonlight. He daydreamed of sleeping in his own bed.

He hadn’t been home in months and looked forward to some peace and quiet after spending time playing in saloons and for special events across the states. Guiltily, he realized he probably should have let his father know more about where he’d been and what he’d been doing. But the band moved from place to place every couple of days, and there just didn’t seem to be enough time during the daylight hours to think of home. When it came right down to it, he really hadn’t thought all that much about keeping in touch.

Finally, he rode through Coltonville. Another half hour and he’d be there. Time couldn’t pass fast enough to suit him.

He rode up to the barn, unhitched his horse, and released it into the corral. Loading himself down with his guitar case in one hand and a carpet bag that was still functional but required a rope to keep it closed in the other, he half walked, half stumbled toward the front of the house.

Stepping onto the porch and to the door, he quietly turned the handle and slipped inside, carefully closing it after setting down everything he was carrying. It was completely dark in the house, save for a soft glow of moonlight making its way in. In his exhaustion he felt something was out of place, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He slipped off his boots and set them against the wall in the foyer.

All he wanted was to fall into bed and sleep until he couldn’t sleep any more. He hadn’t slept in more than twenty hours. In the darkness, he stealthily made his way to his bedroom. The door was closed, so he opened it, remaining quiet so as not to disturb his father down the hall. He removed his trousers and was about to toss them into the corner when he heard his father breathing. The soft sound of his snoring was familiar to Buck.
Why in the world is he sleeping in my bed?

Weary, Buck unbuttoned his shirt as he walked down the hall to his father’s room at the back of the house.

*******

Gabrielle had stayed up too late. She was exhausted. Her goal had been to finish Boone’s new shirt by the end of the evening, and she had done it. But it was two o’clock in the morning.

Turning off the lamp, she dragged herself down the hall to her bedroom and slipped into her nightclothes. Snuggling under the blankets, she shivered a moment before warming up and then quickly falling into a deep sleep.

Her dream was of Boone in a red shirt, tall and stunningly handsome. He was so pleased with it that he grabbed her, hugging her tightly before he danced across the room with her in his arms. Her eyes flew open, yet she lay still, unsure as to why she had awakened. Just then, the covers were suddenly thrown back and there he was, falling into bed with her!

She screamed, her arms flailing. Her balled fist hit him hard in the face. Somehow it registered with her that it wasn’t Boone. This man had no beard that she could feel.

A stranger was in her bed. She yelled loudly, “Boone! Help me!” All the while, she kicked and hit.

Boone awoke to the sound of Gabrielle’s scream. He jumped out of bed and ran to her room. He found her yelling, kicking and hitting a man who was covering his face to ward off the blows she was applying to his head.

“Who are you?” he bellowed. “Get out!” He grabbed the man’s shoulders and began pulling him off Gabrielle’s bed, while she scrambled out on the other side.

Boone was about to punch the man in the face. “Pa! Pa! It’s me. What are you doing?”

Boone stopped himself from slamming his fist into his son’s face, just in time. “Buck? Is that you? What—? Why are you here?”

Everyone stopped talking at once. Gabrielle grabbed a quilt and wrapped it over her nightgown. “You know him? This is your son?”

Boone released Buck, who stepped over to the bed and picked up his shirt, rushing to put it on.

“I’ll light a lamp,” she grumbled, walking angrily from the room.

“Get some more clothes on and come out to the kitchen,” Boone ordered, none too happy with the situation.

Gabrielle was in the kitchen, stirring the coals in the stove. It was four o’clock in the morning, and she didn’t expect to be able to go back to sleep, so she slid the already-f kettle over to one side to heat some water.

Boone came into the room and sat down at the table. “Well, that was unexpected. You all right?”

Gabrielle stared at him. “Am I all
right
? I just had a complete stranger crawl into my bed and, and—.” She sputtered, “And, he touched me! No, Boone. I am not all right. I’m fit to be tied.” She grabbed some cups and banged them onto the table, mumbling to herself all the while. “I was sleeping soundly, all by myself, perfectly content. Next thing I know, I wake up to my blankets being tossed aside and some smelly stranger climbing on top of me. All right? I would say I am definitely
not
all right. I may never be all right again.” She stood next to the stove waiting for the water to get hot, arms crossed in front of her, glaring at Boone.

Moments later, Buck stumbled into the room, once again wearing his dirty clothes.

“Good grief, Pa, what were you doing in my bed?” He asked, clearly confused. Next, he turned to the woman he’d never met. “And ma’am, I’m sorry. I had no idea my father had a guest in the house. I saw he was in my bed and just went on down to the other bedroom.
His
bedroom. All I wanted to do was get some sleep. I mean, how could I possibly know there’d be a woman in his bed!”

Gabrielle listened to the unkempt stranger who smelled like sweat and dust. His clothes were dirty, his eyes bloodshot and accented by dark circles under them. It was obvious he’d been on the road a while.

Boone sat quietly and waited for Gabrielle to pour hot tea into their mugs.

“Let’s all just settle down for a minute now. Does your eye need some attention?” he asked Buck, noticing one eye was already swelling.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” Buck waved him off.

“All right, then.” He stood up and walked over to his son, grabbing him into a bear hug. “Welcome home. I’ve missed you.”

Buck hugged him back. “Thanks, Pa,” he said, softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming. I sort of just got tired of traveling around and headed in this direction. I wanted to surprise you.”

Gabrielle leaned across the table and slid a cup toward the empty chair, pointing for him to sit. “Well, you may have surprised him all right, but you practically scared the life out of me! My heart’s still pounding.” She extended her hand across the table. “Welcome home. I’m Gabrielle Dillingham.”

He nodded once, “Ma’am.” His head jerked up in surprise. “Dillingham? Are you my—?” his voice trailed off. “My aunt?”

Boone and Gabrielle exchanged uncomfortable glances.

“Not exactly,” said Boone.

“Definitely no-ooo,” Gabrielle said, quietly exhaling the words.

Buck looked at his father and then at the beautiful woman who’d been sleeping in his father’s bed. “Then, who? Who are you?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Gabrielle didn’t answer. She chose to remain silent. Buck was Boone’s son. It was his responsibility to do the explaining.

Boone cleared his throat. “Well, Buck. As she said, her name’s Gabrielle Dillingham. And,” he paused, “she’s my wife. That would make her your step-mother. And I’ll echo what she said. Welcome home,” he said, smiling slightly.

Buck tested the tea in his cup and then took several quick swallows. “All right, then.” Buck let his breath out slowly and placed both on hands on the table, pushing himself up. “I have questions, but I’m not quite sure how to ask them right now. But, I’m pretty sure this probably isn’t the best time to do it.” He paused, thinking. “I’ve been awake a really long time. Couple of days, maybe. How about I go sleep in the barn for a while and we talk later?”

“No,” Gabrielle interjected. “You don’t have to do that. We’ve got extra bedding. Would you like to sleep on the sofa?”

“No, thanks. I need a good long rest, and I’m sure whatever story you’ve got for me can wait. The barn’ll be fine, and you won’t have to tiptoe around me. I’ll see y’all sometime later. I’ll grab the bedding on my way out. Good night, or uh, I guess that should be good morning.” He left the room without waiting for a reply from either of the other two. 

Boone and Gabrielle sat in silence and drank their tea, neither sure of what to say.

Finally, Gabrielle straightened her posture by pulling back her shoulders and raising her chin. “We need to tell him.”

“Tell him what? We’ve already told him that we’re married,” he said, slight irritation detectable in his tone.

“Don’t you think he’s going to question why we’re sleeping in separate beds?” she asked.

Boone looked into the bottom of his cup as though it contained a suitable response. After a few seconds, he looked at her. “So what? It’s not really any of his business, is it?”

“Boone, do you really want your son thinking you’re a newly married man having so much trouble with your wife that you won’t even sleep in the same bed with her? He’s going to assume that something is wrong. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It doesn’t matter to me what he thinks. He’ll see by our actions that we—, uh, care for each other. That should be good enough,” Boone stated.

“You really don’t care what he thinks?” she asked incredulously.

Boone thought about it. “I’ve raised Buck to look at people’s actions and the motivation of their heart, rather than taking things at face value. He won’t give it another thought.”

“That’s impossible! You might assume he won’t be concerned, or doesn’t think anything of it, but he has eyes in his head. He’s bound to be curious.” Her temper was rising.

“He won’t be judgmental. That’s not his way.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “He might not judge
you
. He knows you. But, he doesn’t have a clue about me! He’ll think I’m a bad wife.”

“But you’re not a bad wife,” Boone said earnestly.

“He’ll wonder why we’re not—.” Gabrielle hesitated briefly before trying again. “He’ll wonder why we don’t… good gracious, Boone!”

She stood up, grabbed their mugs and carried them to the sink. Turning slowly, she looked Boone square in the eyes. “He’ll question why we’re not doing,” she paused before the words came out in a rush. “…why we’re not doing what married people do!” Blushing, she spun around and began cleaning the mugs with fervor.

Boone sat at the table, smiling at her back. He suddenly realized she was completely uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

He got up and stood next to her, reaching for a small towel and taking the clean, wet mug from her hands. “I’ll make him understand the situation, Gabrielle. I’ll explain that this is what we both wanted and agreed to. How would you feel about that?”

Gabrielle felt tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She never cried in front of anyone. Ever. And she didn’t plan to start now. She picked up the next mug and began scrubbing it as if it were the dirtiest thing on earth.  “I’m not sure what to think about it. I figured it would be easy for us to portray a happily married couple out in public. I certainly wasn’t expecting to have to pretend to be something I’m not in my new home.”

She set the cup down firmly and fled the kitchen, heading to her own room where she quietly closed the door behind her.

*******

A couple of hours later, the morning was accompanied by dark and heavy clouds. Gabrielle lingered in her bed a few minutes longer than she should have. The room was chilly, the bed was warm and cozy.
Ah, Sunday! I’m so glad you’re here.
She decided she’d cook and then clean up quickly after breakfast so she could curl up on the couch with a warm blanket and the book she’d been wanting to read. She loved reading and taking naps on Sunday afternoons, if she could find the time to do it. Today would be the first time in months that she’d actually have the opportunity to relax and have time to do what she wanted to do, rather than what she needed to do.

Frowning, she remembered that there was now another person to consider in her home. She realized she wouldn’t be lounging on the sofa. If Buck saw her, she’d appear lazy.

Finally dragging herself out of bed, she stumbled into the kitchen. Boone had been there. She saw that he’d set plates and utensils on the table before he’d gone outside to do his chores. She smiled, noting he’d already made and poured a cup of coffee for her. He left it warming on the edge of the stove.

She fried some bacon and had freshly sliced bread ready when he came in half an hour later. “Good morning!” He set a basket of eggs on the table, then removed his coat and hung it over the back of the chair. He rubbed his hands together vigorously. “It’s a bit chilly out there this morning. I thought I’d save you the trip to the hen house. It’s not raining yet, but I reckon we’ll have a good storm later today. We’ll take the buggy, though, in case it does rain.”